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Girls Who Like to Ruck!
by
The other day I was at a children’s rugby tournament for the under-elevens,
where the star player was a girl. She wasn’t the only one around, there were
a couple, but she was by far the best player in the whole thing.
Unfortunately for her, she starts secondary school next year and bam!
suddenly, she’ll have nobody to play with. Girls aren’t allowed to play rugby
at S1 in schools where I live. Once they reach S1, after all, the safe Mini
Laws are replaced by the opportunity to push in the scrum, use the hand-off
and tackle properly. And hear the gasps of horror girls might hurt
themselves!
What is it with this absolute horror over girls getting hurt in sports? How
come it’s OK for boys to know the joys of a damn good tackle, but not the
girls? Are we made of china? Are we more prone to injury? Or is it, as I
strongly suspect, yet another way in which women are treated like Barbie dolls
by society? Society doesn’t want to see girls getting sweaty, filthy and
battered. We’re not meant to be on a field with sticks flailing, screaming at
each other and hacking at shins. We don’t please people when we wear
gumshields instead of lipstick, and naked aggression is so unbecoming, after
all. Hence we were stuck playing netball and rounders whilst the boys whooped
in the mud on the next pitch. And this patronising crap doesn’t stop even
when we’re fully grown adults.
I played shinty at university, where the male
side of the club openly stated that they disapproved of women’s shinty. When
asked why, they would begin to squirm, whilst muttering solid arguments such
as, "It’s just not right. . . it's rough out there. . . girls shouldn’t be doing
things like that." This was echoed by every spectator at tournaments,
horrified that "the lassies" were grabbing a slice of the action but not
giving a toss about the 24 guys whacking lumps out of each other on the next
pitch. Male teams refused to let their female teams use their facilities.
They shook their heads that they had "lived to see this day", but were
indignant when accused of sexism.
And other girls are just as bad. See the
bimbos clustered adoringly around the average men’s sports team. Watch their
snide disgust as the women’s team walks past. They have muscles! They’re so
ugly! They must all be fat hairy lesbians, because real, feminine women would
never play a sport where the wimpy, patronising girly safeguards have been
removed! After all, they might get HURT!
Fuck them all. Let’s get a grip here and stop wrapping girls in cotton wool.
Let’s knock off the underlying message that they’re all inferior and weak.
Not all of them want to go out and play contact sports, but why should we stop
those who do, for the lame crap that it’s dangerous for them but not the
boys? Tits aren’t that fragile. This attitude belongs in the 1950’s, not the
21st century. Throw the sports open to all what have we got to lose? What
are we all so frightened of? That some women might enjoy themselves too? That
some of us revel in traditionally masculine preserves? This is sport it’s
meant to be FUN. Why are we being denied that?
I’m involved in youth rugby. I get coaches who won’t speak to me, players who
think they can walk all over me (they can’t), people asking in disbelief, "Are
you the ref?" when it’s on my shirt, and horrified spectators assuring me that
I’ll get trampled to death. Yeah, well, watch me for five minutes and you’ll
see that you’re wrong. I’m not going to sit back and wait for it to be
acceptable to morons. I’ll just get out there and have a great time, and if
you don’t like it tough shit. You should be grateful your daughter’s got
another role model, instead of embarrassed because you told your son women
didn’t belong in rugby and he repeated it to me. Bring your daughter *and*
you son along next time. Bring yourself. Get involved. Get rid of your
presumptions. Everyone’s welcome. If you don’t like it, that’s your choice,
but make it a choice, not an obligation because you think it’s unladylike.
Don’t treat your daughter like a toy who might snap. Teach her to be strong,
confident, healthy and unafraid. And if you can’t do that, bring her down
next Sunday afternoon and I’ll do it for you.
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